The Revolutionary Life of an Almost Feminist
by FanGirlofEverythingAwesome
Summary: Forced to become a proper lady and court a man 30 years her senior, Lady Eleanor throws propriety out the window into order to live by her own agenda. In her scandalous escapades Eleanor befriends the fiery Mrs. Darcy and meets the man of her dreams.
1. Life is Far Too Easy for Some

After envying my friends amazing and frankly beautiful stories, I decided that I needed to make my contribution to fanfiction, no matter how horrible it might be! This i my first story and constructive criticism is very welcome. Please no flames, I know my writing style is different but I hope that you all can understand it. It is more like a dialogue and is a lot more fun to say out loud in a British accent. Once again, please please review and enjoy the story. This was written while in bed trying to recover from getting all four wisdom teeth pulled (not a bad expirence just annyoying). It is short, but it is only a taste to see if my writing has any hope! Oh, it also had nothing to do with the real story of Pride and Prejudice (favorite story ever!) but it occurs during the same time period.

PS- I will be adding the real story soon, I just need to finish editing the first couple chapters!

* * *

><p>Prologue<p>

It has been a perceptive observation of mine that has sorted out the mysteries of ego and achievement. In this grand and diverse world there are two types of people; those who vault over boundaries with ease and later boast about their glorious and magnificent achievement at dinner parties, even though their illustrious boundary came complete with the stairs of social position and comfort. The second type of people are those who had the misfortune of having the previously mentioned stairs kicked out from under them, leaving them to tackle the most difficult social boundaries with little more than four feet of legs, if they happen to be blessed with height, and the assistance of any do-gooder, who, more likely than not, will turn around and use them in their own selfish manner (see first mentioned).

I am in the unlucky position to inform you reader that, to my despise, I am the first of these people to be illustrated. However, I take no pleasure in the fortune of my social standing and would much rather prefer to carve out my own name like those valiant leaders who start from nothing and end heroes of the world. Sadly, my path was set moments after I was born and the doctor whispered the four words that send half of the new-mothers in the world to their graves, "It is a girl". From that moment on I was a disgrace to my mother and father, and, consequently, was required to live up to their expectations, which as you can guess, were astronomically low. After learning to read and write, which surpassed my mother's expectations and ironically her own education, I was determined to learn more.

Learning is said to be the greatest wonder in the entire world, and if it has not been said, please quote me on it, for I would gladly like to show that the women sex have brains and are willing to use them. It is a novel idea that women do use their mind for something other than snagging a husband, but alas, I have travelled down a completely different tangent that I will hope to clarify later. Back to the subject of learning, I continued my education with the help of my elder brother, Andrew. It goes without saying that Andrew was the darling of both my mother and my father, and got whatever he requested. Luckily for me, he was not a spoiled child and was exceedingly glad that he was blessed with a sister that he could protect and would be the damsel in distress whenever he played knights and dragons. At his insistence, my education blossomed. I was allowed to learn French, German and Latin, Mathematics (a dreadful subject but I battled through it), English literature and philosophy. Form the moment my tutor opened the book of Greek philosophers, my life took a change for the better. Reading about the struggles and triumphs of the poor tortured souls of Plato and Socrates, I discovered that anyone could accomplish the impossible if they had the determination to do it.

The great Plato once said that without effort, you cannot be prosperous. I say that without effort, you cannot be respected nor remembered, and that is just what I intend to do. I aim to turn the world upside down, simultaneously becoming the biggest scandal in all of London. Though the task will be a difficult one (London is never lacking in those who want to make a fool of themselves) I hope, dear reader, that you will wish me luck as I embark on the journey that will most likely change the reputation of my family in a most deserved manner.

* * *

><p>Reviews are very welcome and would give me an amazing confidence boost!<p>

PS- If you are a fan of Mortal Instruments (especially Malec!) like me, please read the stories from Enaid Mora! She is a good friend and can write like a professional!


	2. In Which My Life Somewhat Improves

The first real chapter of my first story! I'm so excited I could yell! But that would freak out my mom, as it is 1:00 at night. However, I know that the greatest works are created when the author is half asleep but can't go to bed because he/she is so devoted to their story. Once again reviews are welcome, flames are not. It takes a great a confident writer to accept flames in stride and I am neither one of those. I do own this entire story and all of its characters because I am not experienced enough to incorporate existing characters into a story with fear of messing up their entire personalities and having an angry mob hunt me down. Please enjoy!

PS- does anyone else have trouble with the tab key when editing their story on here? Its really infuriating... well maybe not that but it is kinda annoying not having of the wonderful indent like in word. Or is that just the grammar freak making her appearance?

* * *

><p>I discovered my life's ambition when I was twelve years old. The circumstances that lead me to this revelation were not difficult. I was a plain and ignorant child from a well-off family and had little experience with the world, a circumstance that I was impatient to change. My mother was disappointed in my appearance and never hesitated to inform me of this unavoidable fact. My father on the other hand had no just reason for disliking me. He already had a smart, talented, healthy and handsome son to take over his estate once he passed, and a second son would only create competition within the family. Arguments among ones posterity usually would be considered painful and to be avoided at all costs. So, with this logic, I made a promise to myself to never let my father's incongruous reasoning trouble me. So to a child that had been told that she will never amount to anything, I decided to take advantage of my social position and family connections to create a better life for myself. At the age of twelve, however, one has little opportunity of reaching out into society for assistance, so I made a pledge to myself to learn as much as I could and store away this priceless knowledge for a time when I could better use it.<p>

In my thirteenth year, my unfortunate and discouraged mother passed away. I must give you a background to my mother's life that I am afraid I have failed to inform you of. My mother was my father's second wife and the wife he married for love, or more correctly, pleasure. After all ready marrying a rich noblewoman and raising one son, Andrew, my father decided that it was his right to find a wife that would take care of his manly needs, rather than increase his social standing. In a manner reserved for rakes and other disreputable men, my father visited many courtesans and picked his new bride from the jewels of London. He picked my mother, then Mistress Stalwart, not just for her beauty, but the immense envy that he would receive from her married customers. Mysteriously enough, my father was not criticized for picking a fallen woman for a wife. In fact, he soon because the private hero of many among the gentry and noble class. He was the perfect picture of happiness, a young and beautiful wife, a handsome child and enormous wealth. His life was perfect until I was born. To his and my mother's displeasure, I inherited the dreaded Scottish qualities from my father's side of the family. Since the day I was born, I was cursed with the infamous flaming Scottish red hair, wild freckles and a temper to match. In short, I was a direct opposite of my mother's perfect English Rose looks. My father never forgave me for being born with such unfortunate looks and therefore treated me with the little respect he felt I deserved and my mother felt it was her sin for bearing such a misfortunate child. Though I would never have told it to her personally, and luckily she passed on so I don't live with the guilt from not telling her, her sins from her earlier life finally caught up to her and she was forced to live with the unhappiness of living with something that was not complete beauty.

On my part, I probably should have marked my birth mother death to some degree of mourning, but her loss only signified a new stage in my life, one of complete freedom and days that weren't filled with trying to live up to my mother's beauty. That summer I graduated from damsel in distress to full-fledged squire. My brother and I explored every part of my father's estate. Our horses became our battle ready steeds and the ancient willow tree became the best armory in the land. Though we rarely escaped the daily battles with little less than a few dozen scratches, Andrew's unswerving loyalty to me gave me the confidence I was denied by my parents. Seven years my senior, he was as close to a loving parent I had ever had and my only true friend. That fall he left for school, but first gave me a knight's promise that he would return at every chance he got. After he left, I began to count down the days until he would return on holiday break.

During the months that Andrew was at school, I devoted myself to my studies, completely immersing myself into the knowledge previously only granted to boys. Knowledge became my true treasure and I would spend hours at a time with the old tutor studying about far off-worlds that I desperately wanted to go to. I romanticized exotic countries like India and Morocco, wishing secretly to myself how I would risk anything to go there. However, closer countries like the lands of my ancestors also became destinations of dreams. The untamed wilderness of Scotland and Norway became realistic destinations that I dreamed about every night. Desperately wishing to know more of my ancestor's homeland, I gathered up an enormous amount of courage to ask my father if a trip would be possible.

My father's study had always been a place of terror. My brother and I had mistakenly ventured into his private sanctuary a few years ago and been confronted with my father's shouting and huge frame. He quickly pushed out the two of us and slammed the door so loudly that it threatened to split apart in the middle. Since that fateful day, the study was always a room to hastily run from when crossing the hall. Only the possibility of a faraway adventure kept my feet walking steadily as a crossed to the forbidden room. Opening the door to his study slowly and softly, I tiptoed across the cold hardwood floor until I had reached my father's desk, not daring to breathe for fear of calling attention to myself and unleashing a monster.

After what seemed like lifetimes, I managed to get out a weak "Umm f-father?" I nearly fainted when my father wheeled around, grief contorting his face into that of a beast.

"WHAT THE DEVIL DO YOU WANT CHILD?" he belted, abruptly standing to his towering six foot height.

"I wanted to know… well that is I wanted to ask about Scotland, sir", I replied meekly, all my knight courage and valor deserting me in the blink of an eye. "I want to go there".

My father gave me a quick look that had the power to bring any grown man to his knees, and then frowned at me in disappointment. "Don't ask about such stupid things, child. You keep out of my way until you can prove to me that you have some amount of worth. Why are you so worthless? A girl can never amount to anything!"

Tears began forming in my eyes but the fury growing inside of me was too great to suppress. "I'LL PROVE TO YOU THAT ALL OF WHAT YOU AND MOTHER SAID WAS WRONG! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO JUDGE ME! IT IS YOU WHO HAVE NO WORTH, NOT ME!"

I ran from the room and into the back garden, my anger blinding me from all visible objects. Collapsing on the ground, I let out one huge sob, then quietly curled into a small ball and listened to the birds calling to each other. I envied birds. I envied their spirit and their ability to sign beautifully without any care in the world. Then I remembered what the preacher had spoken of about angels in church that Sunday. Though I couldn't remember his exact words (church was horridly boring when all you were assured was eternal damnation and an unredeemable life) I recalled that angels were the messengers of God, sent to provide the only good tidings that seem to make it into the holy book. Birds and angels were really not so different. They both spoke beautifully and I'm sure if I could speak the language of the birds, they both would assure me that something good was fast approaching in my life, all I had to do was wait.

A week later, something good did happen. My father, destitute from the loss of his beloved wife and envy of the entire London ton, left in the dead of night without a word of his next location. The entire household was in extreme confusion to where he could possible go. This seemed to me an unnecessary question. No doubt his travels would first take him to the numerous beds of the disreputable in London, but no child was expected to know this adult and horribly sinful knowledge. However I would not be the first to complain of his leaving so suddenly. With my final boundary gone, I was truly free. No adult would look upon me with content or disappointment. I was free to make my own decisions and set the course of my own destiny.

* * *

><p>Please, please review! It's really not that hard! Any advice, suggestions and improvements for the story or my writing style are greatly appreciated. I'm kinda just writing this on the fly with no prior planning at all!<p> 


	3. Broken Hearts and Evil Grandmothers

**It seems that at the oddest moments in your life you realize something about yourself. I have made the discovery that my thoughts often play out like a Jane Austen book. For example: **

**This afternoon- **

**Me: "How can one possibly complete one's daily tasks when there is fanfiction to be read and written?"**

_**Falls dramatically onto the sofa, sighing and placing a hand on her forehead**_

**Me: "I think I shall positively faint from confusion!"**

**After getting an odd look from my mom, I could argue that it's the quirks that make people special and memorable, right? Well anyway, I did change the story's summary because the original one stuck out like a sore thumb among all the proper P&P stories (I felt very self-conscious). Well, now you have a taste for what is to come so you all will keep reading! *smiles evilly to herself* Enjoy and don't mind my ramblings!**

**LT- Yes, I have read Georgette Heyer's books! I love her style of writing, so I am very flattered! :D**

**PS- For the summary I did steal his line from Gail Carringer's Soulless. I don't own anything; I am simply a devoted fan. **

**AU- The lines separating paragraphs signify a change in point of view!**

I was comfortably curled up in a most unlady-like position in my favorite armchair when I heard the carriage coming at a brisk pace down the dirt road. I could barely contain my excitement as I rushed out of the library and ran down the hall. My tutor would probably make me study extra to make up for lost time, but what was a few hours of Latin in exchange of finally seeing my brother after months of torturous waiting?

As I flew down the stairs, the sight of the empty reception hall nearly knocked me down. _He's got to be here! He… he is just hiding_… I tried to convince myself, but the horrible realization that Andrew had not come home was beginning to well up inside of me. "Andrew!" I screamed, frantically searching through the blue parlor. "Andrew, this is not funny. Come out now!"

After tearing through the blue parlor, I tried to think of all the possible explanations of where he could be. _Mathew probably got confused with a finance problem and had to discuss the family's money with Andrew. Yes, that's it, Andrew is talking with Mathew. No need to get worried, everything is all right. _Somehow my reasoning did not make me feel any better. Mathew had been running the house for twenty years and had never made a mistake with a single pence. And besides Andrew was horrible with numbers. While lost in my reasoning, I bumped into Sarah, the old housekeeper who would have been the closest relationship I had to a mother if I had let class distinctions get the better of me. Shaken, I looked up hopefully into her kind brown eyes.

"He's back, isn't he? He promised he would be back!"

"He didn't come home love, he's staying on with a friend in Scotland. A very rich and connected friend, mind you," she tried to console me, "He sends his love and a promise to return next quarter."

"His promises mean NOTHING! He can't do this to me! He is a selfish and heartless and man, I don't want to see him!" I screamed, tears wetting my face and causing me sight to fog, "He doesn't deserve to come home! Let him stay with his barbarian friends, I don't care!" I flung the last words undeservingly at Sarah and ran aimlessly into the hall and then outside.

* * *

><p>"Is the young mistress inside yet?", the housekeeper asked softly, worry coloring her voice.<p>

"No," replied Mathew, equally as worried for the well being of his young mistress, "But I will send a couple of the stable hands to search the grounds for her. She shouldn't be out past dark."

"You know where she is though, don't you? The old shed is the only place where she would go at a time like this."

"In that case I'd better go alone. I hate to see what state she's in."

"You can't blame her though, poor child. First her mother, then her father, now Andrew. She's due to fall prey to her grandmother's wishes very soon. I can't help but wonder when the old crone will peak an interest in that poor girl. The Duchess should think twice about messing with her, though. I would be afraid to see what that girl can do when her life is threatened."

"If only Andrew had a stronger will power. Standing up against the Duchess would surely put her back in her place, and secure his sister's happiness as well."

"Maybe once Andrew sees that his sister's happiness is in danger, he will gain some courage." Sarah mused, slightly distracted by the thought of the frightening, manipulative Duchess.

"Only time will tell, only time will tell," the steward muttered more to himself than to Sarah as he began walking toward the east gardens.

* * *

><p>50 miles Northwest, in lowland Scotland<p>

"My dear, have you heard that our grandson, Andrew, is in the county?"

"Yes, he is here visiting Dundas Castle. I introduced him to Lord Alistair at Lady Buchanan's ball last night and made the remarkable discovery that the two had met last year at Oxford. The two are very good friends and Lord Alistair offered for Andrew to stay at his estate and join his hunting party for the next few weeks. Isn't that the most wonderful news?"

"Yes, yes, it is all very good, but wasn't Andrew planning on visiting his sister? They have seen each other in several months. I –"

"Don't worry yourself my dear. That girl can take care of herself. There is no need for Andrew to worry himself over his unfortunate half-sister when there are important alliances to be made! Did you know that Lord Alistair has a very rich cousin living not five miles from this estate? I think that the Andrew and the Lady Rebecca would –"

"What have you been meddling with? It is not your right to command your grandson similar to a servant or a dog. He has his own free will and his own estate. The last thing that boy needs is another domineering figure in his life"

"Don't worry yourself, husband. I simply suggested that he come and enjoy what this wonderful county has to offer. I would never manipulate such a kind and caring boy. He reminds me so much of his father."

"How? Edward was uncouth, controlling and overbearing."

"How can you say that about your own son? Edward always had my interests at heart and never let me down."

"Yes but his strategies to obtain his power were questionable. Edward had a dark soul and led an even darker life. Just look at his choice of a second wife."

"I thought I told you never to speak of that witch! That woman was an evil temptress and the child is proof of her communion with the wicked spirits. Edward is not at fault."

"The child cannot be blamed for the actions of her mother, my dear. We should welcome both grandchildren with open arms, it is only fair."

"Andrew is certainly welcome at anytime, but the other will only be welcome if she can manage to learn something useful." The Duchess of Dalkeith replied, narrowing her eyes as she thought of her other grandchild, if she could be called that. The first and only time the two had met was six years ago, before the death of her socially unfit mother. The child was awkward, and unnatural. Her red hair and willowy frame made the little girl seem more faire folk then human, and her knowing and intelligent eyes geve her a sense of eerie maturity that surpasses even the Duchesses own. The Duchess had the right to alienate the child. Being around such a creature was sure to bring a curse. "Wild, ugly, and educated women never marry and are not part of good society. Elinor deserves no respect or kindness and will stay away from society for the remainder of her life."

* * *

><p><strong>AU- sorry this is more of a "plot thickens" chapter to introduce some of the other characters. The next chapter will be devoted to Elinor!<strong>


	4. Freedom is Never Permanent

_Now that AP tests are done with and finals are finishing up, I hope to be able to update regularly (meaning every other week ). I have no idea how long this story will be, but I hope that all of you will not give up on me! I am considering getting a beta but there is the small problem of finding out how….. oh well, enough with my ramblings! Enjoy the fruits of an awesome weekend! _

_PS: Please, please review. You have no idea how much reviews mean to writers….. I see the new mail indication on my internet page and I think "OH New Review!," but then when I click on it….disappointment….another ad or funny forward from a friend. The main point of this anecdote it that funny forwards are awesome, but never as awesome as reviews!_

**Disclaimer: I do own all of the characters, but if you recognize a line it's probably not mine (I do tend to drop in random lines from other stories, movies, etc, without even knowing it)**

After her emotional breakdown over her brother's letter, Eleanor spent the next four years studying all she could, trying to distract her from the bigger issue in her life. But no matter how devoted she became in her studies, she never felt satisfied of her work. Everyday seemed to pass on just as the day before had. Her brother's short, infrequent visits were the only way to gage the passing time. He continued to spend most of his vacation time at the Duchesses house in lower Scotland.

She always said lower Scotland grudgingly because all of that wild land seemed to blend into one. Lowland Scots always preferred to make the distinction between them and their wild cousins up north, but honestly a Scotsmen was a Scotsmen. She, like all good mannered and proper British citizens of the Empire, hated Scotland and all the people that live there. She had no idea how this intense dislike of the northern neighbors came about, but apparently one is not a true British citizen until one forms the hatred of Scotland and the disorder it represents. Scotland, to most of the people in England, represents all that is barbaric and horrid. It is the ugly cousin that burns a scar into the Empires reputation.

To scare her as a child, her brother used to tell me stories about crazy, half naked men that inhabited the woods and mountains of Scotland. Though most of his stories would be acted out on our makeshift stage or outside underneath the towering willow, these frightful tales were always told in the dead of night when the moon was full and the fires had died out. She used to hide underneath several blankets, hoping in vain that the warmth it provided would give her courage to listen to her brother's stories. The bone chilling breezes of the Scottish Highlands filled the room as soon as her brother began to whisper his carefully woven tales. In that room, neither my brother nor she was safe from the wild, pagan warriors who flew through the night on shadow horses.

Though now she was grown and was no longer as ignorant as she was as a child, the stories made an invisible imprint on her impression of the strange northern culture. She could no longer imagine Scotland without a feeling of dread and fear developing deep in her mind. Sure to say, she was horrified when her brother revealed that he was spending most his vacations in the Scottish lowlands. And, in addition to an already unbelievably horrible idea, her lovable, kind, and carefree brother was living in the dominating path (and house) of the Duchess.

Her tutor was constantly correcting her on the subject of the Duchesses name and how she needed to address her. Technically, the Duchess was her grandmother, but Eleanor never called her such. In Eleanor's defense, she refused to add the title of "grand" to the name of the most hateful, spiteful and manipulative being her world. She felt the title of grand needed to be earned, not just added as a formality following the long honored tradition of family hierarchy. Rather than make some important change in history like Catherine the Great, the Duchess spent her life building up her estate and paying off her son's never ending stream of debts. In addition to snubbing Eleanor's mother from society, she decided that her own grand-niece was not worth her time or effort and cut Eleanor off from her support. All of her actions naturally added up to Eleanor's perfectly explainable emotion of pure hate. Yes she hated her, and yes she knew hate was a more intense emotion than what was deserved, but she felt that she had a strong enough excuse.

The burning question constantly going through Eleanor's mind was how her brother could know all the things the Duchess had done to her and her mother and still decide to spend so much time in "its" presence. The feeling of betrayal grew stronger within Eleanor every day her brother stayed away. The only thing that kept her moving on to the next day was the possibility her brother would return from Scotland.

As the days grew closer to her 16th birthday, she began to think about the alien idea of a debut. She had heard the girls at Mrs. Lowry's last tea party giggle and whisper amongst themselves of the husbands they were hoping to capture while having their season in London. She couldn't blame them for dreaming of raising their position in society, but she knew the poor country girls had little to no chance when standing up next to high society heiresses. Though Eleanor prided herself of her ignorance of modern society, she had read enough of older cultures to realize that women of little means had an equally little chance of marrying above their social station. Her ignorance often left her questioning why girls her own age would spend so much time worrying over their future, unknown husband. She preferred to spend her time riding her mare, Angelique, then spending ling, tortuous nights at the assembly rooms. Last summer, she would ride as far as she could without looking back. Every day she tried to improve her courage and ride out a little farther. By the end of the summer, she would ride Angelique all the way into Ludington, about 30 miles away from her estate. Sometimes, as she neared the small town, she would muse about riding on forever, away from all her troubles at home and her unhappy past. But just as she reached her goal, some invisible chain would tighten, pulling her back into reality.

As she sat in the library in the December before her 16th birthday, she mused over the possibility of leaving all her responsibilities and expectations behind to live a life free of betrayal and limitations. Somewhere out in the world was a vast unknown, so accurately described in the poems of Keats and Woodsworth. Though she hated poems that described the human condition and life, she could never read enough poetry about nature and the world. She felt the aesthetic quality of poetry did not suit humans, but rather the majestic and impossible beauty of Mother Nature. There was a magical quality the way unrestrained wilderness affected her. She never could quite explain what it was, nor did she want to. She feared that putting something so beautiful and emotional into restrained and controlled words would ruin the experience of her freedom, if only temporary.

She was shaken from reality by a load banging on the front door. _We never get visitors_, she thought to herself. Confused and curious, she poked her head out of the library door and listened into the conversation down stairs.

"Please tell the lady that her grandmother, The Duchess of Dalkeith wishes her to spend the summer at her estate in Scotland. If the lady is not already engaged, I was asked to take her their personally in the Duchesses carriage."

Eleanor felt sympathy for the poor butler who didn't really know how to respond to the situation. Gathering up enough courage to save him from having to give an embarrassing denial, Eleanor rushed to the top of the stairs.

"She is otherwise engaged," Eleanor replied, trying to look as regal as possible as she descended the wide flight of stairs down to the hall. "Please inform the Duchess that I regretfully must decline her generous, if not unprecedented, request," Eleanor continued, sarcasm dripping off her tongue as she tried to hold back her anger. Heading into the blue parlor, she called over her shoulder, "Oh, and tell her that she might have convinced my brother that she has a soul, but she will never fool me".

With a smug smile on her face, Eleanor marched out of the hallway and began to open the door to the parlor, She had just twisted the knob when she heard the servant stutter over his reply.

"B-but his l-lords-ship, your b-brother, als-so w-wished for you t-to come", he managed to get out, looking more and more embarrassed as Eleanor's glare intensified.

As the uncomfortable silence carried on, Eleanor's expression turned from hateful to defeat.

"Fine", she whispered, turning back towards the door and resting her head on the door with a heart heavy sigh, "I'll do it."


	5. Into the Lions Den

**Hello everybody! Trying to update as soon as I can, but it really is more difficult than I thought. To make this easier on myself, I have decided to actually plan my story (I know novel idea). Hopefully the planning will make updates come more quickly. Enjoy this very late update!**

**A/N: I'm so sorry if the names change a little bit in the beginning chapters. Im just going back and fixing little things that I changed as I was writing. I promise it won't happen any more!**

The carriage bumped nosily down the well traveled road, Eleanor stared blankly out of the window, the Duchesses request repeating over and over in her head. The request was so simple, yet it carried all the authority that the older woman had over Eleanor. Though she refused to admit it, Eleanor was partially dependent on the Duke of Dalkeith's monetary support of her brother, and everyone knew that the Duchess controlled every decision that the Duke made. The Duke was far from a weak minded person, but his wife would always manage to get her way every time. _Just like she got with me_, Eleanor though to herself as followed the line of the horizon with her eyes.

As the light grew dim and signaled the end of the horrible day, Eleanor awoke when the carriage took a particularly sudden drop thanks to a hidden pothole along the road. Noticing the change in light, Eleanor's breath caught in her throat when she took in the wild and unfamiliar landscape_. In only one day's journey how could the land change so drastically?_ The rocks were jumbled against each other as if a divine force had crumbled them in the heavens and let them sprinkle down onto the earth. The trees were equally as jumbled. Eleanor wondered how such scraggly trees could survive. _They must have to be ugly in order to live up here_, a small laugh escaped her lips.

This startled her governess who had spent the entire trip dedicated to her knitting. She looked up from the neat rows of burgundy wool and cast a confused look at her charge.

"What is it dear child? Are you feeling all right?"

"Yes, absolutely marvelous! Have you even looked outside yet? How could one not feel amazing when surrounded by all this beauty?"

"There is nothing to see, just grass and rocks. All the common things you see in nature. Surely nothing to peak your excitement" Ms. Lowry replied, making an effort to return back to her menial task.

"Oh, how can you say that! This is nothing like what is back at home."

Eleanor's attention drifted after her last statement. The word "home" stuck a sore spot in her heart and weakened her sense of overflowing joy. She tried to shake the feeling off. _This trip is exactly what you have been dreaming about_, she thought to herself as she returned her gaze to the paradise outside. _Remember you are only going for your brother, he is the only person you should care about. Forget about the duchess, forget, forget… _Eleanor repeated this mantra inside her head for what seemed like ages. While in this trance, all further remarks made by Ms Lowry relating to her charges health were completely lost.

As the carriage came to an abrupt halt outside the Dalkeith Estate, the steady, calming flow of thought was cut off and Eleanor was thrust back into the real world. Panic hit her full on in the chest and she felt her poorly stabilized confidence slip into oblivion. She looked up to see the imposing façade of the estate and cringed. _What have I got myself into?_ The door to the carriage opened and a gloved hand was held out for her. _I am going to die_. She could barely keep her own hand from trembling as she dismounted from the carriage and took her first step into the lair of the Duchess.

As she crossed through the doorway, she heard steps quickly coming down the stairs. She didn't have to look to recognize her brother's thundering footfalls.

"Andrew!", she yelled as she flew into his arms for a long awaited hug.

"Hello little one", her brother laughed as he swung her around, then set her down gently.

"I'm so glad that you were the one to welcome me here", Eleanor spoke excitedly to her brother, eyes shining with joy. The brightness slowly dimmed as she became aware of the being standing behind her brother.

Andrew noticed the change of emotion in her eyes and silently swore at his own forgetfulness.

"Eleanor, this is my good friend Lord Darius. Darius, this is my little star", Andrew hurried through with his informal introduction, hoping that the Duchess would wait in the parlor.

"So this is the little girl that you are constantly talking about", Lord Darius replied, looking at the girl with mixed curiousity.

Eleanor stared at the tall man and studied his face. Having little experience with men, Eleanor could not judge whether the man was handsome or not, but she did realize that there was a quality about him that prevented her from looking away. She stood transfixed by him, until a smirk broke across his face. At this, the spell over Eleanor broke and was replaced by contempt.

"I'm not a girl", Eleanor impetuously stomped, "Why would the Duchess ask for a little girl to visit her. She wants to see me now because I am a lady"

"She hopes to make you into one" Darius quickly corrected eyes narrowing in skepticism.

Fury growing inside her, Eleanor wanted to be free of this man's company. "I don't need to listen to what you think. Whatever the Duchess wants me for it is none of your business and keep it as such!"

At this last ourbust, she quickly turned on her heel and marched down the hall with as much dignity as she could muster in the circumstances. She heard her brother call out her name, then rush down the hall to catch her.

Finally reaching her, he grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him.

"Eleanor, what was that?", Andrew questioned, brotherly concern filling his voice.

"That was a dispute, Andrew. I certainly hope that you have seen a fair amount of those in your life. If you haven't then you are spending far too much time with angels."

"I know what an argument is, sister, but my question is why did you just have one now with Darius? You only just met and you are biting off each other's heads."

"He thinks I'm a child and I'm ignorant," Eleanor answered in frustration. She then narrowed her eyes in though and began to talk to herself. "I've probably read more books than he has and he had the nerve to think I am ignorant. Oh, I'll show him"

"He doesn't mean to come off as harsh, it is just his nature. Just like yours is to become too hot-headed."

"You sound as if you know him perfectly. I'm not surprised since you spend most of you time with him. To think that you prefer some rude barbarian over you own sister is beyond me."

At this Andrew knelt down, put his hands onto his sisters small shoulders and stared at her for a few moments. Neither of them moved or breathed for these seconds until Eleanor let out a small sigh of defeat.

"You're right," she whispered, ashamed of her feelings and actions. "What can I do now though? I've made myself look so stupid and practically proved his point of my childishness."

"The only thing you can do is prove him wrong. The first step: meeting the Duchess." Andrew guided her further down the hallway until the siblings reached the door to the blue parlor.

"Wait, what can I do to get ready," Eleanor quickly asked, facing her brother in desperation.

'Honestly," Andrew chuckled when he saw the apparent panic in his sisters face, "Pray." And with that last remark, he ignored her protests and pushed her through the doorway.


	6. Not What Was Expected

**I was planning on updating a lot sooner, but I had a horrible case of writers block. This chapter probably remained the same for a week before I finally was able to continue my stream of thought. It's going to get real interesting…. But not for a few more chapters! Reviews are much appreciated and help keep me writing! **

**AN: Big thanks to warmglow79, undercover-ninja, and just lovefanfiction for their reviews on the latest chapter!**

Eleanor nearly tripped as her brother pushed her into the room. She was just about to say some very unladylike things until she realized where she was. Sitting on a powder blue sofa, not twenty feet from her own person, was the Duchess. Eleanor had never met the woman, but somehow she looked exactly like the picture that had been forming in Eleanor's mind for some time now.

The Duchess had blond hair that hid the telltale signs of aging. Her skin was beginning to show age, but like her hair, portrayed her as a younger woman than she really was. Her mouth was pressed into a hard line , expressing her displeasure of Eleanor's method of entrance, however unintentional. As Eleanor glanced into the Duchess eyes, however, her breathing grew still in fear. The Duchess had the most beautiful but harsh blue eyes. Seeing these eyes made Eleanor want to run and cry at the same time. All the heartbreak this woman had endured was portrayed through this window to the soul. Yes, the Duchess had no current feelings expressed through her eyes, but Eleanor saw all the past emotions that this woman had felt.

"Come here, my dear," the Duchess finally said, breaking the glaring silence that had filled the room.

Eleanor was pulled forward by the command even though her instincts were telling her to do the exact opposite. She obeyed the Duchesses movement of a hand and knelt by the arm of the woman's chair. One graceful hand came under Eleanor's chin and she felt her head being pushed up. Though the Duchesses hand was gentle, Eleanor could not help comparing her current situation to a lamb being taunted by a wolf right before it was devoured.

"You have acceptable features, but your cheekbones are too sharp. A little more food in you will hopefully smooth them out. But your freckles," the duchess eyes became even more scrutinizing, "if you stayed indoors more during the year we might be able to fade those, unfortunately they will never dissaear entirely."

"My governess said that I have freckles because a fairy came into my room when I was little and painted my face with her magic brush." Eleanor argued with earnest conviction.

The Duchess eyes grew large in alarm. "Do not ever repeat that horrible example of barbaric folklore in my household, young lady. I see that I have my work cut out for me."

"To do what?" Eleanor was more than a bit confused at this point in the conversation and was afraid that she had missed a vital piece of information.

"To turn you into a proper young lady, of course. I cannot go on ignoring your education much longer. I hope you are not beyond even my ability to train. There is so much to do if I can even hope for you to have your first season by the spring of your 18th year. And then of course you will have to be married a year later. I –"

Eleanor had been daydreaming since the Duchess had began to answer her question, but was jolted out of her peace by the horrible word.

"MARRIAGE?" Eleanor practically screamed.

"Why of course dear, and do not talk so loudly. A lady never raises her voice. Ever."

"I think you have some mistake," Eleanor hastily stood up and began to retreat to the safety of anywhere but this room.

Just as she reached the door, the Duchesses icy words hit her in the back, "You can't stay unmarried Eleanor. You will forever be a burden on your brother. How can he possibly find a wife while he is constantly worrying over his careless and ignorant sister?"

She had done it. She had found Eleanor's greatest weakness. Not only had the Duchess found it, though, she had pounded ruthlessly at the soft spot in Eleanor's heart, leaving bruises that would never heal.

"I am willing to help you, possibly even love you as I love your brother, but love comes with respect. I cannot respect you if you continue to disobey me," the Duchess explained to her emotionally weakened grandchild.

"You could love me?", Eleanor questioned, turning around to look at her grandmother with overflowing joy in her heart."

"If you put in the effort to keep the dignity and honor of this household, then your work will be repaid. You will be able to live without want and can see your brother more often then you have seen him in the past years," the Duchess replied her contract. She soon added, "and we can hold off your marriage until you are more comfortable with the idea."

If Eleanor had not been so infatuated with the idea of a new life at Dalkeith Estate, she would have seen the glint in her grandmother's eye, but the emotion betrayed in the Duchesses eye appeared and disappeared so quickly that few would have been able to detect it.

"You may retire to your room now," the suggestion sounded more like a command than anything else. "No doubt you are tired for your travels and can benefit from a night of relaxing. I'll send a servant to bring up your dinner in a few hours."

"Thank you Grandmother." Eleanor exited the room and followed a servant up stairs. Normally she would have been disappointed because her brother was not waiting for her outside the parlor, but she was still stuck in a dreamlike state. This emotion was only replaced by the growing amazement due to the ease that Eleanor had said "grandmother". She hadn't said it grudgingly, but with all the emotion that she hoped t o be able to give to another being, never dreaming that this person would be the Duchess.

Eleanor barely took in her surrounding as she drifted to her bed and fell comfortably onto the covers. _Marriage_, she thought with wistful contemplation. The idea didn't seem so bad as long as she would have time to get used to it. She hadn't really considered it before. Her life used to revolve around books and nature, not men or manners. Eleanor thought about other girls her age and how their lives were so different from hers. Her father's country estate was so cut off from the rest of the world that she never had any friends apart from her brother. She played with the servants children when she was little, but differences in class restricted them from being friends once they all grew up.

She stared up at the ceiling and traced the intricate designs on the ceiling with her eyes. Though she did not know how to dance, the designs mirrored what she believed to be dance steps. _No doubt all girls my age know how to dance_, she thought regretfully. She turned to her side and continued her comparison. _And are interested in marriage._ She had come full circle in her thoughts. _Does it all come back to marriage for a woman?_ Pondering over this question for a few moments and found that is only depressed her, Eleanor continued in her daydreaming. Somehow the image of Lord Darius flitted into her mind. She took the time to study his face in her mind. "I wonder if girls my age would think he was handsome," she said out loud to herself. "He certainly wasn't bad looking." Eleanor spent the next few minutes thinking about this new acquaintance. Suddenly, the image of him smirking at her curiosity flared in her mind, which in turn sparked her forgotten anger.

"If one thing is for certain, I'll never consider him." Eleanor threw one of the numerous pillows on the ground for emphasis. "I'll show him," Eleanor whispered into her pillow just before exhaustion took over her body.


	7. A Marvelous Opportunity

**Hey everybody! I had hoped to update earlier, but I exchanged a quicker update for a longer chapter. I have also been dividing my time between this story and a story in-progress (which I hope to have uploaded by the end of the month *crosses fingers*). Sadly, school is also starting at the end of the month, but I don't think teachers will try to kill me with homework until at least the second week, so I'll be able to write another chapter by then. I'm terribly sorry for the slow plot development. I just need a few chapters to get this story all thought out and then the action begins! As always, please review! They keep we motivated to write new chapters!**

**A/N: the real Dalkeith Palace in Scotland was my inspiration for the Duchess' estate, and the Belton House (from 1995 Pride and Prejudice) is used again for Rosings Park. To procrastinate from finishing up summer homework, I might work on a cast list. I would ****love**** recommendations of actors as I have no definite image of the characters in my head!**

* * *

><p>"How could anyone possibly remember all this?" Eleanor groaned in frustration and let her head fall into her hands.<p>

"Sit up like a lady, there will be no slouching in my presence," her grandmother commanded her with stern eyes. "All you need to do is concentrate on what I am telling you. The principles are simple." She began to explain the difference between addressing an Earl and a Duke in full detail. Eleanor tried to pay attention to this lesson, but the information was infinitely more boring than the exciting geography and history lessons that she had previously back at home. She knew she couldn't complain, though. Just to have her grandmother's love and respect was enough to endure a lot of things for.

Later after the lesson, Eleanor had forgotten most of what her grandmother had just taught her but she knew it had to do with the depth of a curtsy. Or was it the length? Eleanor debated over this question but got no further in finding the right answer. She let the question linger a moment more on her mind then let it slip away. After debating how to spend the few hours of peace before the grueling hour long ceremony that was the evening meal, Eleanor decided to take her new horse out and explore more of the countryside. Her grandmother had forbidden most of Eleanor's former pastimes, but luckily horse-riding was deemed "appropriate and advantageous for a young lady to be skilled at." As a present, Eleanor received a lean white Arabian horse from her grandfather. The horse was the most beautiful thing Eleanor had ever seen. Her coat shone brilliantly in the sunlight and she trotted and cantered with more grace than most humans had. Ridding this horse made Eleanor feel like the duchess she was attempting to emulate. _With little success_, Eleanor thought to herself. Although she had lived at Dalkeith Estate for nearly three months, Eleanor had retained little knowledge of the complex world her grandmother was teaching her about.

"Enough thoughts about my shortcomings, let's ride," she said to herself as she stepped outside and down the stairs, heading determinedly to the stables. She asked the stable boy to get her horse saddled for her, then waited without much patience for the time when she could escape the estate, even for just one hour.

20 minutes later Eleanor found herself in the same situation she had just been in three months ago. The only difference was that she didn't regret placing herself in this new situation. Though she was yet again trapped with no way of escaping, she didn't feel the need to. Not only did her grandmother treat her with love and respect that Eleanor had been craving her entire life, she felt as if she belonged here. The more she thought about it, the chains trapping her were more comforting than anything else. They made her feel wanted; she was needed enough to keep trapped.

She sighed and patted her horses head gently. "You need a name, but something as pretty as you has to have a name that has significance, that means something. I'll think of the perfect name." She guided the reigns to the left, towards home. _Time to go back._

* * *

><p>"Eleanor."<p>

"What?" Eleanor looked up from her daydreaming.

"Your daydreaming continues to be a distracted, no matter how much I scold you about it. We have to work on that," her grandmother scolded with disapproving eyes.

"Yes Grandmother," Eleanor said meekly, not wishing to call more attention to her horrible habit.

"I wanted to talk to you about your first season," Eleanor's eyes widened with excitement. "You have been here for six months and I think it is time to try out your newly acquired social talents in a real setting. I wrote to a good friend living in England to arrange a," she stopped to think, "trial season if you will. If you can handle country parties and social sphere, then we are not long behind your official season in London."

"I can handle it, I promise," Eleanor said, practically bouncing with excitement. This was her chance to have a normal life and experience everything that girls her age did. She wasn't going to miss this chance. She couldn't.

"We will have to purchase a completely new wardrobe for you. Even though this is a small county affair, you can't pale in comparison to any girl and you won't when Madame Tressade is done with you. I sent for her yesterday, so I expect her to arrive by the next fortnight." The Duchess stopped talking and stared at Eleanor, almost evaluating her. "I expect you to work more diligently from now until you and I leave."

"Of course I will, Grandmother!"

"Lower your voice, child. There is no need to raise your voice. Remember your lessons. If you continue at this rate, I will cancel the trip." This comment made Eleanor sit even straighter in her chair and fold her hands gracefully in her lap. "That's better," the Duchess said, "Now off you go. I require some time alone to finish my correspondence."

"Thank you Grandmother," Eleanor said, trying her best to rise as gracefully as she could from her chair.

"Don't be late for dinner, as you were yesterday." As if Eleanor had forgotten. When she stepped into the dining room 10 minutes late for dinner, she had literally felt her grandmother's eyes bore holes into her. Eleanor knew she deserved it, though. Her grandmother had few rules, and it was Eleanor's own fault that she had trouble abiding by them.

"I won't, Grandmother." Satisfied by Eleanor's promise, the Duchess dismissed her with a small nod. Eleanor left the room walking on air and, had she been less careful, she would have broken another rule; absolutely no humming Mozart.

* * *

><p>"Ow!" the dressmaker barely gave Eleanor a glance as yet another pin went too far into the dress and poked its victim.<p>

"Stay still," Madam Tressade mumbled as she exchanged her assistant a handful of pins for a measuring tape. "You have gotten taller since I last measured you," Madam Tressade said with a frown, unhappy that she had to make even more alterations, though no doubt a small bit of ribbon could be added at the bottom with little inconvenience.

"My grandmother did notice that I had grown. Is it that much?"

"A half inch, but that does not make me concerned. I am in trouble if you continue to grow at this pace, though. I can't make alterations since you leave within the week."

While the dressmakers finished up adding the final touches to Eleanor's new clothes, Eleanor became more and more anxious of the upcoming trip. The more she thought about it, the more convinced Eleanor knew that she was going to make a complete fool out of herself. Other girls had years of practice, while she had a meager eight months of half-remembered lessons. The only thing that put her mind at ease was the confidence her grandmother showed in her. It was actually the lack of criticism her grandmother made about Eleanor's current behavior, but Eleanor choose to overlook that fact.

_Speaking of overlooking,_ Eleanor thought as Madame Tressade and her assistant busied around her, _I haven't seen Andrew in over a month. I thought living here would let me see more of him. _In fact, whenever Eleanor had seen her brother, he was always with Lord Darius. _Odious man_, Eleanor thought with a mental foot stomp. Though she had purposely kept their interaction to a minimum, every time she saw him, a re-enactment of their first meeting always played in her head. She didn't know what she saw in him the first time. _All he is is a tall and handsome noble, nothing special. But why does he infuriate me so much? _After much internal debate, she realized the answer; because he took away her brother. Not only had he influenced Andrew to take up law, but Darius introduced his cousin to him. His lady cousin, to be more specific. Apparently Andrew and Lady Rebecca were quite smitten with each other, but Eleanor didn't have the authority to say so. She had only met Lady Rebecca once, at a dinner party her grandmother had hosted. All Eleanor could remember was a gentle smile and a pleasant, equally gentle voice. So, Eleanor had come to the conclusion that this mysterious lady was trying to emulate a feather. And doing a good job of it. The part the Eleanor didn't understand was why Andrew was taken by this piece of insubstantial fluff.

Unfortunately for Eleanor's argument, Lady Rebecca was probably the woman whom her grandmother was trying to model her into. This assumption would explain why her grandmother was so keen on having Andrew spent all available moments of the day at Lord Darius' estate, where the lady in question resided. _Though not for long,_ Eleanor thought grimly. But she had to look for the silver lining amidst all the dark clouds, many of them were her own creation. Her critical personality often turned a harmless fact into a false problem. She didn't have control of her brother's feelings, but she had control of her own. With effort, she might even begin to love, or at least respect, Lady Rebecca.

Abruptly deciding that the current subject of her thoughts has beginning to depress her current sour mood, Eleanor put all her attention into watching Madame Tressade busy around her, making last minute tugs at the fabric and ribbons. All of Eleanor's current worries were temporarily locked far away in her consciousness.

* * *

><p>Eleanor awoke with a jolt and took a few moments to blink away the shock that the bright sunlight created. She had been asleep for a couple hours it seemed. She and her grandmother had left the inn immediately after their morning meal, and judging by the intensity of the sun, it was already afternoon. The carriage door opened and her grandmother exited gracefully and waited outside for her barely conscious granddaughter. Eleanor took the hand of the attendant and stepped down slowly, engrossed in her new surroundings. Rosings Park, at least that's what she believed it was called, was a stately manor that seemed more windows than walls. The house itself was made out of a stone that Eleanor believed used to be a warm, inviting color, but the sun had made into a washed-out, cold color. She turned around to view the gardens surrounding the house and was pleasantly surprised. Although Rosings didn't seem to have an abundance of flowers, the grounds looked perfect for riding horses and walking. Contemplating the soonest time when she would be able to escape her grandmother and venture out alone, Eleanor completely forgot the purpose of why she was there.<p>

"Come child," the Duchess called to her with a disapproving tone.

_Oh no, _Eleanor thought, waiting for the lecture that usually followed after she had forgotten her manners. Walking quickly to catch up with her grandmother, suspense clouding her mind, the reprimand never came. In surprise, Eleanor almost stopped walking. Possible explanations flickered through her head, but after a second of inner debate, she let the issue slide off her mind. _She has more important things to worry about than my tendency to daydream during unimportant events. _

Stepping into the main hallway, a maid dressed in a pristine, somber uniform guided them to a pair of doors, equally imposing as the exterior of the house. It amazed Eleanor how all the grandeur of an estate could be preserved in a pair or ordinary doors. Well, they certainly weren't ordinary. Not just anyone could afford them for sure, but these doors were more than doors. _Congratulations, Eleanor, you are officially beyond the normal nervous. You have been forced to preoccupy your mind debating over doors. _After elating in that sad moment, Eleanor realized she was in the presence of a woman who could have been a sister to her own grandmother. They both had equally critical gazes and an air about them that made the watcher never dream about disobeying them. This woman, however, had dark, graying hair that was pulled back, leaving waves on either side of her face. Her nose was thin, and not nearly as elegant as her own grandmothers. This stranger, too, had cool, calculating eyes that took in every detail that they saw. Overall, this woman commanded the presence of the gentry, but not nearly as well as her grandmother. She had to be titled a "lady".

"Eleanor, may I present Lady Catherine de Burgh. Catherine, this is my granddaughter, Lady Eleanor Riddell." Both women bowed, though Eleanor felt obliged to hold hers longer since she was meeting a woman of equal rank but her senior.

Introductions made, the duchess made herself comfortable in the only chair in the area, no doubt lady Catherine's usual chair for receiving visitors. Eleanor barely had time to attempt to suppress her nerves before both older women launched straight on into planning her near future.

Her grandmother began. "Is Anne away visiting today?"

"I had hoped that my daughter would be able to join us this afternoon, but unfortunately she has caught a passing cold. Nothing too serious but she is required to remain in bed for a few more days until she has recovered her strength. In the future, I hope that Eleanor and Anne will become good friends. Broadening the girls' social interaction will benefit them both immensely."

_You could ask my opinion on the subject_, Eleanor retorted in her head. She dared not say her feelings aloud for fear of making an enemy of Lady Catherine. _Does she always talk over people as if they are not present? How am I to bear these next few months? Surely Anne will not be a source of great friendship if she is confined to bed due to a little cold. _

"I have also invited my nephew and his new wife to join us for the season. I expressly wanted them to come and bring his younger sister. She is a year older then Eleanor but will no doubt be able to give advice to her, having already finished her first season."

"She did not find a husband last year?" the Duchess asked with a hint of concern.

"Unfortunately, her older brother is very protective over her. It is to be expected because she has a very large dowry. That fact always attracts disreputable fortune hunters."

"Quite right," the Duchess agreed with a nod.

"What is this lady's name," Eleanor asked, curious of the subject of their conversation. Lady Catherine stared at her with a surprised expression, as if she had expected for Eleanor to remain seen but not heard. "Miss Georgiana Darcy."

"What a lovely name. Is she equally as beautiful," Eleanor continued her inquiries.

"She is a very beautiful girl. Quite a credit to her family, though she has a shy and timid nature," lady Catherine admitted.

"It sounds that Eleanor could learn quite a few things from Miss Darcy. When is she to arrive?"

"In two days, if their carriages do not get delayed. I have planned a small dinner in honor of both your arrivals. It will consist of a few families that live in close proximity to Rosings."

"Are any titled?" the Duchess asked with extreme interest, leaning closer to her friend.

"Only one, a bachelor by the name of Wyhdham. Lord Wyhdham lives five miles south at Gainsborough Hall. His first wife died when she was very young, and he has never remarried. Now he is a little old for most girls, but he is still a very eligible man." Lady Catherine emphasized the adverb.

"And you say he is coming to dinner?" Eleanor thought her grandmother looked too excited for talking about an old widower.

"Yes, he wrote that he was more than delighted to meet our three young ladies."

Eleanor shivered at the thought of having to converse with Lord Wyhdham while he was considering more than acquaintance. Suddenly the joy of the new adventure dulled. At least she would not be alone in this struggle. Miss Darcy seemed an infinite more eligible lady than Eleanor could ever be. Eleanor's feelings shifted again. _Poor Miss Darcy, _Eleanor thought with compassion, _she is so shy yet she must be thrust into the world of men, most attempting to win her fortune. _At that moment, Eleanor made a silent pledge to support the other girl anyway she could. Eleanor knew that nothing could go wrong as long as the two girls remained together. Well, at least few things could go wrong.


	8. Mistaken Deductions

**And two months late I manage to scrounge an update together! If you were all wondering, im not dead - yet. Blame school for everything, it is trying to murder me. I pinky promise to manage my time wisely and update sooner than this one (which is not hard to do). I live off the reviews all of you give me so please, please, please review! I love constructive criticism and feedback in general! **

**Disclaimer: I own no characters from Pride and Prejudice. They belong to the wonderful Jane Austen**

Eleanor shifted nervously from left to right foot as she looked at the dance floor. The past couple of hours had been a constant whirl of quadrilles, minuets, and several other dances that Eleanor couldn't remember the names to. The partners for these dances were only dull images of faces in her head. For the entire evening, she was concentrating more on the proper steps then the partners she danced with. In accordance with the etiquette of private balls, gentlemen did not need to seek out an introduction in order to dance with her. As she was barely out in society, her grandmother only allowed her to dance half the dances, which was more than enough for Eleanor.

She could feel her patience wearing thin, her eyes wandering to the faces of the onlookers. Drifting past tall heads and feathers that towered over the men standing next to them, she locked eyes with Ms Darcy and the two smiled knowingly at each other. Eleanor never realized how much she needed a peer to talk with. Though Georgiana was always very composed and reserved, she brought a balance to Eleanor's outspoken nature. It was only a week after they had first met, yet Georgiana had already corrected Eleanor of several of her faults in decorum. Eleanor was willing to change, also. Unlike her grandmother who reprimanded her, Georgiana was all too happy to help her new friend.

Georgiana seemed almost too perfect for words. She embodied the image of the perfect lady and did so with effortless poise and grace. Not to mention she had a very large dowry. With these qualities it was very shocking that she wasn't married by now. But the last quality was the very same that made her ineligible to all men save a handful. Her 30,000 pounds and her hand in marriage could only be given to a suitable man; suitable meaning being able to earn her brother's permission.

Eleanor and Georgiana shared that knowing glance due to the leering man at Georgiana's left shoulder. Mr. Carey had already danced with Georgiana once and had the audacity to ask her a second time. Thankfully, Georgiana had a passable excuse or she would have been subject to many questioning stares. As horrible as Mr. Carey was, it was inexcusable to reject an offer to dance. Georgiana did not stress that point enough during their impromptu lessons together. To reject a dance would subject the lady to stand out from dancing the entire night, and even though Eleanor would gladly accept this curse, she knew she would be punished horribly by her grandmother the day after.

Mr. Carey took a step forward, pushing into Georgiana's shoulder even more. The concerned look on the poor girls face multiplied. _I have to save her. _Eleanor quickly navigated between talking couples, barely missing stepping on a particular gaudy dress made of dark red muslin and edged with a horrible display of pearls and scrolling silver embroidery. She reached Eleanor just in time.

"Ms Darcy," Eleanor spoke, hating to use the formality, "are you not feeling just a little parched at this momement?"

Her friend picked up on the subtle hint. "As you mention it, I am a little thirsty." She turned to face the expectant Mr. Carey. "Mr. Carey, would you be kind enough to get a drink for my friend and I?" She batted her eyelashes, though the man would have been just as eager to obey if she had not.

"I-I would love to." He bowed awkwardly and left in the direction of the refreshments quickly.

"That will only give us a few moments of peace," Georgiana whispered, not wanting to be overheard by the other ladies and gentlemen around them.

"I know, but the next song will be starting soon and I know that we can find you a partner."

"Poor man. I don't want to be deceiving."

"You are far too nice, Georgiana. If you want to feel better, blame it all on me. I would rather be charged with deceit then subjecting my friend to a night of torture."

"It wasn't that bad."

"The look on you face said otherwise," Eleanor remarked, eyebrows raising. "Besides, he was _leering_". Eleanor emphasized the last word with a shudder.

Georgiana gave a small giggle then looked at Eleanor. "I guess it was that bad, wasn't it?"

"You should know better than I." Eleanor took the other girls arm and began walking toward a small group of gentlemen, hoping to receive adequate protection once Mr. Carey came back from his little excursion.

"Here you are ladies, you seemed to have moved while I was fetching your drinks, perhaps for a better view of the dance floor. Which reminds me, Ms Darcy, may I have the pleasure of this next dance?"

"I, uh," she glanced to the right, in the direction of the other young men, all without partners. Mr. Carey did not pick up on the insult. The young men obviously did not pick up on the scene unfolding just a few feet next to them. "Of course Mr. Carey. Eleanor could you hold this for me?" She handed Eleanor the half empty cup and was led by that odious man to the dance floor.

Eleanor's mood turned foul. _Men, _she thought, irritated and not just at Mr. Carey. _Can't be depended on for anything._ She sighed a little.

"What was that for?" Eleanor almost jumped in alarm.

"Nothing, Grandmother, just a little tired."

"Not too much I hope, you need to meet an acquaintance of mine."

"Of course," Eleanor tentatively replied, wondering who this mysterious person was.

The Duchess didn't need to wind her way around the groups of people scattered around the dance floor, they just moved out of the way, parting like the Red Sea. Eleanor rolled her eyes with a silent smirk. _Everybody always seems to be moving out of her way. Makes her job a lot easier._

Eleanor then realized they had stopped walking. She looked up and was startled for a heartbeat.

"Eleanor, I want you to meet my friend, Lord Brunwin. Lord Brunwin, my granddaughter, Lady Russell."

Eleanor offered her hand mechanically and Lord Brunwin took it gently, bowing over it. He released it just as gently and smiled at her, she couldn't return it. This man looked a few years younger than her grandmother, who was young looking for her age, why was this introduction necessary? He probably had a son. _Great, they are arranging my marriage_, she thought to herself, a little hurt at her grandmother's assumed plan. The Lord began talking casually with her grandmother and Eleanor took the opportunity to study their interaction to gain a few more answers to the puzzle. Lord Brunwin had a very straight posture for someone who looked to be approaching 45. He was tall, with black hair that was beginning to grey at the temples. He had a solemn expression and stormy eyes that held little joy. Eleanor could only what his son could look like.

She began to grow tired of watching the two converse, so she watched the line of dancing. Lord Brunwin noticed her discomfort.

"Why don't you find your friend and let your grandmother and I talk privately."

"Alright then. It was a pleasure meeting you," Eleanor gave a small curtsey and walked off to rescue Georgiana from the clutches of Mr. Carey

* * *

><p>Eleanor woke up to the bright mid-morning sun pouring through the window. She yawned, stretched her arms, and swung her feet onto the floor. Looking out of the window, she submersed herself in the countryside. Though the occupants of this house, save for Georgiana of course, were unequalled in boorish conversation, the land around the house was vibrant and full of life and wonder. The walks with Georgiana always managed to contain a new park or meadow. Eleanor didn't know that wildflowers could bloom in so many different colors and the assorted flowers worked their way into every available vase that the two girls could scrounge up.<p>

Her peace was disturbed by her maid. _Here we go_, Eleanor thought, taking a deep breath to mentally prepare herself for the day at hand. Something deep inside of her could not stay calm and it worried her. She hated not having all of the information and not knowing what made her worried, even subconsciously, irritated her more than him. Though she had promised herself _that man_ would not trouble her over her vacation, she couldn't let go of her anger and embarrassment. _Why can't you just have stayed back in Scotland?_ She silently cursed the mental idea of him that haunted her mind. _Great, now my wonderful morning had been ruined by you_, Eleanor thought to the image.

Briefly flitting away the image, Eleanor went to the closet to pick out the dress she wanted to wear to breakfast. She chose her favorite of the plain morning dresses. The dress was the usual white color but it was edged in pale blue lace that matched the color of the morning sky. Outdoor activity was limited now so she had to make do with clothing.

She practically ran down the stairs as she realized she was very close to being late for breakfast. Upon her arrival at the breakfast room, her grandmother raised her eyebrows at her near tardiness but did not make a comment. Lady Catherine, on the other hand did. Probably feeling the need to exercise her God given right to be heard, whether it was appropriate or not, she spoke with narrowed eyes.

"You seem rather cheery this morning Ms Eleanor."

"It has been a beautiful morning," _even though it was ruined for a moment._

She sat down and waited for the manservant to serve her breakfast. All eyes were on her.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked innocently.

"may I have some privacy with my granddaughter?"

Lady Catherine was a little put out with the idea of having to evacuate her own breakfast room but she eventually complied.

"Now Eleanor," her grandmother began only as the door shut with a loud 'thunk', "do you remember the man I introduced to you near the end of the ball?"

"Uh, Lord-," she paused, not remembering the name, only the face."

"Lord Brunwin."

"Yes I do," Eleanor replied, knowing the turn that the conversation was going to turn.

"You are going to marry him."

All Eleanor could do was stare, open mouthed, in disbelief.


	9. A New Friend and an Old Enemy

_Sooooo after one month of attempting to write a chapter, I finally just did the only thing that seems to work and locked myself in my room until I finished this chapter. Bunches of thanks to all those who have reviewed (i'm trying to update as soon as possible so I can't pull up your names) you guys mean the world to me! Hope to review soon but no promises :P Happy Christmas!_

**Disclaimer: I own no characters from Pride and Prejudice**

Eleanor walked out of the breakfast room an hour later white faced and silent. Her mind, filled with haze from her anger, slowly cleared as she drifted up the stairs. The maids cleaning the gallery on the second floor passed each other quick curious glances before starting their work. They could hardly hear her footsteps; her breathing seemed too slow for one who had just shouted her lungs out. Gossip would be filling the kitchen tonight.

The door closed with a slight _thunk_ and the rustling of sheets and blankets came next. Eleanor let out one last breath before miniature re-enactments of the trauma she had just suffered through bombarded her mind.

"_You are going to marry him."_

"_There is no other option, our family needs the money."_

"_You are poor; you have nothing."_

"_He will provide for you and your family."_

"_You should be thankful that someone will offer to marry you for so little money."_

Eleanor screamed into her pillow, not caring who heard. At this point, she wanted the whole world to know of her suffering. To know the cruelty and injustice that fate dealt in only one single blow. She screamed again and hit the bed next to the pillow. Her legs kicked the bed madly, her anger trying desperately to vent out from her body. Sitting up, tears streaming down her face, the door opened with a creak.

"Eleanor?"

"Get OUT!" She threw her pillow wildly at the door, which slammed it shut. It wouldn't be for another 3 and a half hours before her mind finally cleared for good and the regret of her action washed over her with dread. Mentally and physically exhausted, all she could accomplish was swinging her lags onto the bed passing out almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

She could feel a warm, gentle hand on her back, slowly stroking it in a calming motion. Without opening her eyes she whispered "I'm sorry." The body sitting next to her on the edge of the bed got up and knelt on the floor. Eleanor opened her eyes hesitantly, never looking higher than the edge of her bed. Arms came into her view and rested where her eyes were looking. Georgiana's head came to rest on top, her crystal blue eyes locking with Eleanor's. Eleanor was overwhelmed with the emotion she saw there. Without even saying a word, Georgiana managed to grasp the entirety of her friends suffering. Neither of them said anything or moved.

The afternoon sun began to sink below the horizon and Eleanor's stomach began to hurt. Even if all she wanted to do was hide away from the rest of the world, apparently her stomach still kept to its regular schedule. Georgiana lifted her head up from where she was laying it on her forearm. Her eyes crinkled with silent laughter.

"Hungry?" she asked with a tilt of her head.

All Eleanor did was nod, ashamed of her need to keep to her typical daily meal times.

"Wait here." Georgiana slowly stood, wincing from the pain of the feeling returning to her legs.

Eleanor waited until Georgiana left the room and then turned her head back into her pillow. She dozed for what seemed like only a few seconds, waking when faint steps could be heard entering the room.

"That didn't take you that long –"

She started when she lifted her eyes at the end of the sentence. "Who are you?"

"I'm so sorry to be intruding, but it seems that you may need my help. Georgiana told me to come up to talk to you." The mysterious woman pulled the chair from Eleanor's vanity to the bed and sat in it delicately, her pale blue dress made a light sweeping sound. She leaned forward. "I'm Elizabeth Darcy. You must be Eleanor?"

Eleanor nodded slowly, suddenly becoming self conscience of her no doubt blotchy face and mused up clothes. The past few hours undid all the work that her maid had spent making her presentable. She pulled herself up and leaned against the pillows, staring at the beautiful woman. Dark brown curls framed the sides of her porcelain face. Her light brown eyes were filled with concern. She took Eleanor's hand with both of her own, and held it tightly. Looking down, Eleanor noticed a small but intricately cut diamond that brightly sparkled, even in the dim light, on her left hand. It took just a few more seconds for this woman's name to make a connection.

"Oh! You're Georgiana's sister," Eleanor exclaimed, her eyes growing big at the realization.

Mrs. Darcy laughed, "Yes I am. The last name should have given you that indication."

"Yes, well," Eleanor looked down to the side in embarrassment, "logic isn't really working at this point."

"I can empathize with that statement," the older woman replied gravely, no amusement lighting her eyes.

Eleanor looked at Mrs. Darcy hopefully. "You understand?"

"A few years ago I was placed in a very similar situation to yours. Well, I think the family pressure was similar. For all I know, the two men are very different." Her eyes grew dark. "I hope that there are no men in this world like Mr. Collins." She said this last remark under her breath.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that last statement."

"That was the point, my dear. Now," she straitened in her chair, "how are you going to deal with this turn of events?"

"Well, what happened to you?"

"I refused, stood my ground, and eventually things worked out. He made a very well matched marriage shortly after and I was free to marry for love. This is how I came to be your friend's sister-in-law. However, through our situations may be similar, the way we confront these situations may be different. So I will repeat the question – what will _you_ decide to do?"

"I- I don't know. There is really one option."

"Which is?" Elizabeth cued.

The girl took a shaky breath. "I have to marry him."

"Urrggg!" Eleanor jumped at the sound of frustration that Mrs. Darcy gave. She grew even more scared when the older woman jumped from her seat and began pacing the room.

"When in that entire conversation did I give the impression that I supported that outcome?"

"Umm, well I didn't really get the impression of any indication of feeling toward my situation," Eleanor admitted, more than a little confused.

"I seem to accomplish nothing if I only distance myself," Elizabeth said with a laugh. "Truth is," she knelt down by Eleanor's side, "don't be forced into this marriage. You will only end up unhappy and wishing your entire life that you had fought against all those who attempt to oppress you."

"You can't know that," Eleanor said with a small shake of her head.

"Yes dear, yes I can. I can't make you do anything, that would be hypocritical, but please promise me that you will give this decision some thought." Eleanor nodded. "No; more than just a simple agreement. This is not for me, but for you. I would hate to see such a beautiful young lady make one wrong step that could endanger her happiness forever."

"But this won't just affect my life. This marriage will secure my brother's fortune as well."

"Your brother can take care of himself. He can always find some way to secure his own money. Men have the ability to change their fortunes, but women have a much harder time. Though this Lord Brunwin may be rich, you may not be better off if you marry him. Riches do not bring happiness."

"You certainly have ample amounts of both," Eleanor replied with a little skepticism.

Mrs. Darcy reddened. "Hadn't thought of that actually but I will promise you that Mr. Darcy's wealth did not cross my mind when I accepted him."

"But it did make him more attractive at one point, did it not?" Eleanor asked with a glint in her eye.

"You little imp," Mrs. Darcy said with another laugh. "Aye, it did - at one point," she hastily added. "I am only here for a few days but you can come to talk to me or write anytime." She got up from the floor as if to leave. At the door she turned around. "I have no worry for you, Eleanor. You certainly have enough strength to take good care of yourself, now use it." With that last statement, Mrs. Darcy disappeared from the door.

Shortly after Georgiana's bright head popped in the doorway.

"So?" she questioned, "How did you find my sister?" She fell on the bed next to Eleanor.

"She was very inspiration, that I for certain."

"How so?"

"Well, for one thing, I'm no longer going to marry Lord Brunwin."

Georgiana's eyes grew wide in alarm. "I had a feeling that you would come to that decision, but no so soon!"

"Yes, your sister had a dramatic affect on that decision." Eleanor paused for a few moments, as if wrestling with a challenging thought. Finally, "Georgiana, I have a strange request."

"What could you request of me?"

"Might I borrow 100 pounds? I promise to pay it back within the year, but my allowance is used up and I could not ask my Grandmother."

"I have some saved up that you could have but why would you need so much money now?"

Eleanor rose from her bed and walked to the window, filled with a new found confidence and oddly passionate feeling of rebellion. She turned to Georgiana. "I am going to London, alone."

Her friend gave a slight gasp. "But you can't do that! Not without a chaperone and your grandmother will never allow it."

"I don't care a whit what she thinks. She brought on this trouble herself when she thought she had immutable power over me. Well she was wrong. I can go by myself and I will."

The next day Eleanor was enjoying her morning to herself. For an entire morning, there were no people to cloud her thinking. Peace was blessing in her life that was being horribly ignored. Feigning illness, she convinced her maid that all she could do was lie in her bed, saving her from a dreary two hours of church, but more importantly, the reverend. Rev. Collins was, to put it nicely, a self-important bore. His company was almost as unbearable as _that_ man's.

"Sitting alone in an empty house is not safe, Miss Riddell. You can't know what sort of character will enter into this house unannounced."

Eleanor's blood chilled. "You are quite mistaken Lord Alistair, I know exactly what kind of, how did you say it – character? - will enter. You have proven your own point."

"I see you haven't lost you charm." He said with a smirk, entering the room, consequently breaking her fragile sanctuary.

"One doesn't lose that very easily. You never had a likable feature, and I see that you obviously have not lost that bit of your personality."

"Easy vixen. Believe me or not, I came with the intention of having a civil conversation with you."

"Seems we are off to a pleasant start," Eleanor retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"As I assumed we would. This visit is not for my sake but for your brothers. He sent me from Scotland when he was told about your prospective marriage proposal."

"So now you take orders from my brother? Really Darius, I thought you were bigger than that."

"And I really thought that you had a bigger respect for yourself then to obey the Duchesses edicts!"

Eleanor choked back a sob, startled more at the Lords thunderous Scottish accent. Her head fell onto her chest; unexplained guilt filled her entire body. All the events of yesterday were conflicting within her head and she couldn't sort out right from wrong. But however strong that feeling was, the desire to fight back pervaded the gloom. Anger gathered inside of her. Finally she snapped.

"Whatever you may think, I am strong enough to fight my grandmother!" She yelled, jumping out of her seat. "I will prove it to the world, and-" stepping close to Darius and stabbing a figure in his chest, she whispered with intensity, "I will prove it to you."


	10. Breaking Free From the Cage

_What have I done?_ Eleanor panicked as she paced back and forth like an animal in a cage. _I am crazy! They will lock me up._ Eleanor stopped and smiled with a wicked grin. _Not if they can't catch me!_ She raced up the stairs, causing yet another few eyebrows to be raised in question to her actions. Eleanor slammed the door of her room and flew into a wild frenzy, throwing the entire contents of her wardrobe onto the floor and bed. As she reached the last of the contents of her traveling chest, the adrenaline rush that had impeded her rationality for these past few minutes fell into shambles, leaving Eleanor to stare blankly at the bottom of the chest.

Gripping the sides of the chest, her not so carefully formulated plan deteriorated in her mind. She couldn't run away – alone – to London. She didn't even know the first thing about city life, not to mention that she had never been to a city even close to the size as London. While she was focusing on the difficulty of imagining the famous town, Georgiana managed to sneak through the doorway, all the while staring agape at the evidence of a wild force that had plowed through the room.

"You must be completely mad!"

"Georgiana!" Eleanor exclaimed as she jumped up from the floor and ran to her friend, giving her a tight embrace.

"I don't think your grandmother would approve of your – um – re-organization," Georgiana said with questioning eyes.

"Oh please, even you must know what absolute destruction must look like," Eleanor emphasized her statement with a wave of her hand.

"Yes," Georgiana said slowly, "but why?"

Eleanor's mood darkened suddenly and her friend became very aware of the forbidden ground she was stepping on.

"I'm leaving – for London."

Georgiana snickered at the absurdity at the statement, but seeing no humor in Eleanor's face, she also became very serious. "It is Lord Brunwin, isn't it?"

Eleanor let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes. I have always followed my grandmother's wishes but something about the whole plan feels," she paused, scrunching up her face in thought. "Distrustful."

"Distrustful?"

"You know my point," Eleanor said with an exasperated shake of her hands.

"But London, Eleanor? This drama is not worth ruining your entire reputation, not to mention your family's reputation. I know you have never had a care for social protocol, but running away to _that_ city will do none of us any good!"

"I need to show everyone that I can't be pushed around anymore. I gave the Duchess my trust and look where it got me; practically shoved into a horrible – not to mention heartless – marriage, where I would most likely live out my days shut up in some old country house, widowed five years after matrimony, never having the chance to really _live_. I need adventure – I know what you're thinking, but I haven't romanticized anything."

"No, the kind of adventure you are thinking of will more likely get you killed, or worse," Georgiana shuddered at the thought.

"I need to show the world that I am not some pathetic female who will let herself get trod upon by the entire face of humanity! Only then can I really live they way I want to – independent and empowered with free will."

"You are sounding like - " Georgiana stumbled over her confused thoughts, " – like a man!"

Eleanor stooped pacing the room and whirled around. "Exactly!" she said with a defiant spark in her eye.

Georgiana's eyes grew wide in alarm. "No! No, you can't do this. You have gone insane." She put her hands on her head in worry. Her breaths grew labored.

"Can't you see Georgiana? The reason why I have envied my brother, not to mention most men, is because of his independence, his ability to answer only to himself."

"But he has more responsibility then you! He has to work constantly to provide for you and himself. You cannot understand his duties because all your life you have been provided for, and in turn we women must follow their guidance."

"It is easy for you to say. You have a brother who would risk his entire life to keep you safe, and has raised you in a just and praiseworthy way. All I have to show for is a grandmother who would sell me to the highest bidder and a brother whom I barely see twice a year. So to fix this contemptible mess I have found myself in, I must steal the reins of my future from those who would see me ruined."

"How poetic."

"That is all you have to say? We are making history in this very room and all you can say is _poetic_?"

"We? When did I become a part of this?"

"When you gave me two hundred pounds to run away to London with."

"No. Absolutely not!"

"You will, not just because you are my best, and only true friend in this entire world, but because you know that this is my dream - "

" Which you have only had for thirty minutes," Georgiana objected.

Eleanor threw her a dirty look but continued on. "My dream, and my only option. I promise – cross my heart – that I will keep safe, only drink in the most respectable clubs," she received a raised eyebrow at this comment but continued on, "and maintain a weekly correspondence with you, just for you to make sure that I have not got myself tangled with any disreputable persons from London."

Georgiana sighed, but after deciding that she could not reason with her deranged friend, she gave up trying to stop Eleanor from getting what she wanted. "I will give you the money – not," she interjected as Eleanor's face beamed, "in response to your pitiful sob story, but because you are making history. If you become famous, perhaps I will receive some credit for starting your radical escapades."

Eleanor threw her arms around her friend with a fervent excitement. "Thank you, Georgiana. I might be crazy, and eventually bring my family into complete and inevitable ruin, but at least you had the courage to do so."

"You know they might lock me up with you if they find out who gave you the money to start you off."

"Yes, well I will need a companion in the dark dungeons of the tower. I imagine it gets very lonely when all you have for company is the rats and the ghosts."

"You will only go the tower if your grandmother doesn't find you first."

"The Duchess can go off herself for all I care."

Georgiana's eyes widened at Eleanor's language.

"Oh, did you hear that? I already sound like I belong in London."

* * *

><p>Eleanor put her hands on her hips and surveyed her new living quarters. One hundred pounds secured her a two months stay with an elderly widow who was renting out rooms, only streets away from the "fashionable" part of London. The only problem encountered so far was that fact that nothing had occurred since her arrival. Apparently, one had to be known in order to be invited to social gatherings and events. In other words, she was stuck in the mud until someone, <em>anyone<em>, knew her name. Technically, his name. Eleanor had assumed her brother's name for the time being, seeing that she could easily make up a believable and true back-story. Plus, Andrew had never even set foot within 50 miles of London, so the fear of recognition was far from her mind. Coupled with the finest wardrobe any London male socialite could by within the half day she gave notice to the tailor.

Her vision stopped on the pants, shirt and coat lying on her bed. She picked up one sleeve of the coat, flipped it back and forth, feeling the alien, almost forbidden, feel of the heavy material. For two hours, the ensemble had been draped on the bed, being stared at by the room's suddenly cowardly occupant. All the courage and passion that Eleanor developed when her insane plan began to build up in her mind was put at bay when the time finally came to overturn her life forever. It seemed planning about possibly ruining your life and eventually your family's good name was incredibly easier then actually carrying the plan out. Who knew?

Eleanor was stuck between throwing herself within the middle of all the happenings of London and seeing how her new persona handled all the chaos, or progressing slowly, taking the process step by step. _Well, the whole decision to come to the city was a bit immediate,_ Eleanor thought, _so I might as well balance out the whole thing with a little patience. The Club_, Eleanor decided after a few minutes of pondering. _A club will be the easiest way to get my name out. _The only problem was that Eleanor had no clue where to even start. Just then Mrs. Landgrove, her landlady, stepped into the room with a tray bearing the afternoon tea.

"Mrs. Langrove! You are just the woman I needed to see. Do you know of any respectable clubs in the nearby area?"

"Why yes, my husband used to frequent Brook's when he was alive, but lord, child, why would you want to know a thing like that?"

"Oh, no reason Mrs. Landgrove, just – curious, that's all."

"Curiosity will get you in a mite of trouble, my dear."

"No need to worry about me," Eleanor replied with a smile, as she attempted to shield her new clothes from her landlady's view. No reason for the poor lady to have another problem on her hands. "I am simply wondering because a relative of mine may be residing in the city soon and I would like to offer my services as a guide."

"Oh no dear! I am afraid that Brook's is a very exclusive club. Only members of the gentry are allowed entrance."

"My relative is a very influential member of society, ma'am, and I am sure his name will gain him acceptance into the club."

"If you say so, my dear," Mrs. Langrove warily replied and left the room, very confused with the behavior of her new, and very alone, tenant.

* * *

><p>Eleanor slouched back in a cushioned velvet chair along the edge of the smoke filled room, a disgusting, yet fashionable drink in her hand. She had entrusted the server to chose her drink, but she hadn't thought that this – what was it? – brandy, could even be drunk by any human being, much less liked. Contrary to her belief, all the men in the room liked their drinks; all had one in their hands or on the gaming table where they were playing.<p>

After Andrew's name was recognized as a member of the gentry, she was able to gain a membership using up the last of her money as payment. The rest of the night she was spending keeping off to the corner and observing the behavior of the men in the club. So far, all she could see was discreet conversations, no doubt about married men's mistresses and the debauchery that went with the whole event, and gambling, in which Eleanor hadn't the slightest clue as to the rules of the game. Feeling entirely out of place, she decided to try her first drink of alcohol, found out that she absolutely abhorred it, and sat alone in the corner, simply watching.

"I believe you are new to this club, are you not?" A voice came from above her head. Panicking, she stood up, the feel of man's clothes still bothering her at every movement. She was not prepared for an actual conversation with a man, dressed as a man. _It's now or never_, Eleanor thought with a pang.

"Lord Andrew Riddell," Eleanor replied with a lowered voice, as she brought forth her hand. The man, boosting shockingly red hair close to her own shade, gave her an enthusiastic, if not forceful handshake.

"Charles Bingley, at your service," the man replied with an eager, warm smile.

"It is very nice to make your acquaintance." Eleanor tried her best to remember all the etiquette lessons the Duchess had taught her, but in uncomfortable surroundings, shorn hair and men's clothes, she felt as silly as a carnival clown. "Are you a resident of this city?"

"Yes," he replied with a shake of his head, "I'm in town for the winter, but this is my first visit to this particular club. It was recommended to be by a friend. I presume you are new to town?"

"Yes, just arrived in fact. Though I am here for pleasure, I find that I am completely unprepared for this life."

"London can do that to you. In fact, why don't you join my family for dinner next week Monday? I'm sure my sister's would be happy to meet your acquaintance, and it would give you a few more friendly faces in this strange town. And you seem like a decent fellow. Your name is well known for your fair and profitable business deals. A good business man can always be trusted."

"You are most generous," Eleanor said with a small smile, trying not to seem too eager. "I am happy to take you up on your offer."

"Just ask the man at the front for my address." Mr. Bingley gave a slight bow and retreated from the room. Eleanor, after downing her awful drink with two gulps, marched out of the room, retrieved her coat and headed home, her gloomy attitude completely erased. Maybe this idea wasn't so bad at all, and – heaven forbid – she might actually get used to that awful drink.

* * *

><p>AN: Hello audience! I'm gonna try out this whole note-at-the-bottom-thingy because… well… I like to switch things up a bit. So, first things first, I am so sorry that I am one of the slowest updaters in the world. I think it's so nice of authors to update weekly, bi-weekly, bi-monthly, then I think back to my own story and realize that I update once a month.. yeah…. have to get better about that. But you all probably now that procrastination is just sooo addicting… like drugs. Definitely NOT comparing the two (but if I was, they would be similar). So my point that I'm trying to get to is, I hope you all liked the chapter! Sorry for so much dialogue, but the story is more character then action based at this point. Apology in advance, the Darcy's will most likely not make a significant appearance until the chapter after the next. *Spoiler alert* maybe….. Bingley was added as a second thought but I am so glad that he made an appearance. Can't hog all the love, Darcy! Have an awesome week, or month… which will be probably when I next reappear. Toodles! Ps reviews are much loved 3


	11. Realization of a Disaster

**A/n: So hey there everybody!**

**:…**

**:…**

**:… yeah, life happens, and occasionally an author dies temporarily, but I'm back now! Heehee! At least for a short while. I gave you an extra long chapter to make up for it! Please, please don't be mad at me… Reviews are much loved and are proof that I haven't completely died yet! Thank you for all staying with the story, it means the world to me!**

**Summary: After running away from her domineering grandmother, the Duchess, Eleanor (our heroine) runs away to London, dressing up as a gentleman in order to live independently. There, she tries to fit in to London society by joining a gentlemen's club and attending parties, even meeting Mr. Bingley himself!, but she cannot control the rampant gossip that her identity has stirred up. **

Eleanor walked through the door of Mr. Bingley's townhouse, located in a very fashionable part of town. _Well he definitely has money, and lots of it. Can't seem to escape the wealth _Eleanor thought to herself with a smirk. She was met by the door by an old footmen, probably had been with the family or years. She handed off her overcoat and hat, and was led into the drawing room. Eleanor could hear the flirtations of a desperate woman even before she saw the door. _Oh dear, can never seem to escape them either. _

Passing through the doorway, the bright red hair of Mr. Bingley caught her attention quickly. As she was introduced, a woman standing to the left of Mr. Bingley stared at her with judgmental and cold eyes. The woman had raven hair, a thin nose topped by haughty arched brows. And her dress! Eleanor had never seen a more obnoxious peacock blue. It only provided a bigger contrast to the dark and tall man that stood next to her. Her breath hitched in her throat as soon as the two locked eyes. Eleanor had only seen one man more attractive than him, and thinking of _that_ man was out of the question. Her reaction was not to be mistaken or love, however. The man had dark eyes that seemed to break through her façade that she had spend weeks piecing together, stripping away the character that gave her the confidence to commit her audacious actions. All of a sudden, Eleanor felt like the most ridiculous fool, dressed up in an alien costume. Mr. Bingley's voice broke her trance.

"Andrew! I'm most happy that you were able to make it to our little gathering. Please let me introduce my sister, Caroline Bingley" – remembering her etiquette lessons, Eleanor took the lady's hand, bowing over it slightly then releasing it, Miss Bingley gave a small sneer in response, "and my dear friend, Mr. Darcy." The two gave a slight head nod as society required them to do. When Eleanor shifted her eyes away, she could feel Mr. Darcy's questioning gaze continuing to bore holes in her.

"Darcy, Caroline, let me introduce you to my new friend Lord Andrew Riddell." At the sound of "his" title, Caroline's eyes lost their cold stare, and attempted to gain a kinder, hopeful light. Eleanor thought her whole attempt made Caroline look pained, like she hadn't been used to genuine smiling.

"You are very young to be a lord," Caroline half sneered, half flirted. Eleanor decided that she did not like this experience at all.

"My father died when I was young and I took over his title as soon as my relatives felt appropriate. There was a whole estate to be managed and my sister needed a strong sibling to guide her."

"What a model of perfect aristocracy," Darcy commented, "If only more of your kind were to take up this same model, corruption would be crushed."

"You are surely mistaken, Mr. Darcy. I was under the impression that all in this room were equals in class. The only perks that my title gives is automatic entry in gentlemen clubs, and the occasional raised eyebrow when one of us obscure nobles comes out from hiding in the country to experience the London season. Otherwise, I conclude that we are of same stature, well, disregarding experience in life, in which you most decidedly have the upper hand."

"Well matched Lord Riddell," Darcy replied with a small grin.

"Your obscurity is true for sure," Caroline, the flirtations gone, said, practically looking down her nose at Eleanor, though Eleanor was not sure how; they were the same height.

Eleanor brushed Caroline's harsh comment off. No woman was going to humiliate her, she was a man for goodness sakes! "You have no idea as to how many nobles are hiding up in the country, either avoiding public scandal or reading their lives away. Though I am not the former, I am afraid that I am horribly guilty of the latter. Only business in the city could pull me away from my library."

"One thing you and Darcy have in common," Mr. Bingley brightly.

Caroline, annoyed that she had no part in the current conversation, quickly diverted the group towards the dining room. Though Eleanor had found a friendship not just in Bingley, but Darcy as well, it seemed that Caroline was determined to ruin any semblance of intelligence conversation and further introspect into the true characters of the two men.

Eleanor lounged in her armchair by the window, her customary spot in the gentlemen's club. The past weeks had dragged on. She couldn't see any reason how the city could be all that people claimed. It was dirty, it was crowded. There was no moment of peace. Though there were more books in the club's library then Eleanor could have ever dreamed, the ever-present distrust in the air clouded her thoughts. She learned that the story behind her father's disappearance was moving through the London society like a rampant fire. Just as quickly as she was accepted as "Lord Andrew Riddell," she was shut out again, with a more vehement cruelty then the Duchesses. Attending the club was more for the sake of her daily ritual then expressing the freedom she gained as pretending to be a man.

_It's time for my last stand, _Eleanor thought. She closed her book that she was only pretending to read and placed her elbows on her knees, holding her head in her hands. Her whole experience in the city had gone terribly awry, but she wouldn't admit that to anyone. The balls, parties, dinners and the eventual estrangement from her new acquaintances were all equally awful. Now that her lease of her rooms was coming to an end, the perfect time to make a exit while she still could. _One more party, _Eleanor decided, _One more to show them all what the Riddell family is famous for. I will give them something to gossip about for the next four years. _The plan was simple; be noticed by everyone. Fan the fire until it became too hot for anyone to handle, and then disappear and let havoc have its turn. She was determined to leave an impression on the people of London by any means necessary.

Eleanor stood with Darcy along the edge of the dance floor, watching the couples move along with the intricate weave of the cotillion.

Their conversation that evening had been very restricted; no doubt he had been informed of the gossip concerning the Riddell family. Just that evening, Eleanor over heard a whispered rumor about her – not "Andrew" but the real Eleanor. Apparently, the daughter of the Riddell family was a great beauty, slender, graceful, poised, yet could turn feral at any moment. The madness, set in from an early age, had progressively worsened so the family shut her away in the country to prevent any harm being caused to visitors. "It is terribly frightening," one woman commented her companion, "how such a beautiful person could house a beast within." Ha! If only they knew. Eleanor glanced at Darcy, both of them hadn't danced all evening, though or Darcy it was by choice. Eleanor had never been to a ball such as this. Most of the time she would spend her evenings talking rather than dancing. Though she needed the dancing to keep up her appearance, it was very awkward to dance with a woman, especially since Eleanor had only practiced the woman's part.

It was very hard to pretend to be a gender you are not. _Well of course it is you idiot, _Eleanor though as she mentally hit her forehead. If this experience did teach her anything, it was that she was a horrible decision maker at times of high stress and rushed thinking. But that was before she knew better, before she knew of the workings of London society. She had carefully formulated her new plan and she was ready.

Her eyes searched the room for her target, a young gentleman who had the secret (or so he thought) of drinking a little too much before a dance and was prone to becoming as equally brash when aggravated, which he became at the slightest disturbance. She had seen him being quietly and tactfully escorted from social gatherings many times. All of his characteristics made him the perfect man to publically insult which would then lead to a challenge to defend his honor (more likely an assault due to his dimmed rationality and increased anger). The two would begin a fight, be thrown out of the ball, and hopefully be talked about for the next couple of years before fading in the memory of the ton, replaced by a plethora of no-doubt equally as scandalous rumors and gossip. Seeing him, she walked along the outside wall, maneuvering quickly past standing groups of people, careful not to draw too much attention to herself. Reaching a moderately sparse space in front of a band of glass doors that opened onto a terrace, Eleanor stood tall and proud, took in a deep breath opened her mouth and –

- Was retched backwards by a strong hand. Startled she let out her breath with a sharp outtake. In that quick moment, she was already outside, two hands kept her firmly pressed against the wall. Apparently no one saw her being practically kidnapped at the party. _Some help they are_. Soon, she realized she might want to look at the man who was holding her captive. She lifted her eyes and a flood of hatred rushed through her body.

"Can I help you?" Eleanor snatched through gritted teeth, her eyes narrow and body rigid with anger.

He only lifted an eyebrow. _Insolent man. How dare he?_ Eleanor fumed.

"I believe the question most appropriate is 'How should I thank you from letting my family name fall into the deepest state of ruin,' but at present," Lord Darius looked her over, Eleanor began to feel very_, very_ uncomfortable. She somehow imagined their next meeting …different.

"I don't think there's much you can say that hasn't already crossed my mind," Eleanor didn't wait for him to finish his statement. She didn't want to be discussing her scandalous wardrobe at a time like this. "And if you could be so kind, release me." Her voice had gotten dangerously low, signaling the shaky ground he was treading on.

"Only if you promise not to run away," his eyes were serious, and very green.

To keep herself from blushing, she retaliated. "I never back down from a fight."

"No, you prefer to start them," he released her arms but remained standing at such a close distance, his scent of sandlewood and pine made her feel shaky. _Breathe Eleanor, breath. _"Now, would you tell me what in God's name were you attempting to start in there?"

"You really shouldn't swear," Eleanor said slowly, trying to avert the conversation.

"Like hell I shouldn't!" He began pacing violently but remained out of sight from those inside. "I've heard the rumors about you, spreading from one group to another as a disease moves through the slums. And just as filthy too. Haven't you caused enough damage for your family, especially your brother? Can't you imagine the irreversible harm you have brought upon your brothers business and good name? He tried so hard to build up the rotting company your father left behind, and somehow, in one fell swoop, you made everything tumble to ruin again."

Dread replaced the flood of anger and the other, strange emotion in Eleanor. She would not cry, could not cry in front of Darius. She could not let him see her weakness - the fact that she had begun to crack a long while ago and all that was needed was a slight bump to set her shattering into hundreds of pieces. Her eyes were cast down in hopes of escaping the current situation but his reproving glare bore holes straight through her. She gave one last attempt at holding herself together, but one tear broke her fragile composure. With all of her confidence and determination gone, she fell in defeat against the brick wall and let out a few quiet sobs. Her horrifying actions were clear to her but what made the matter all worse was she could see no way to escape them. Scandals like these were not blown over and forgotten within the span of a season, she had foolishly made sure of that. Why had her actions driven her to go so far off of her main goal? Grateful that she was wearing pants, Eleanor sat on the ground against the wall and curled her legs up to her, attempting in vain to melt into the shadows. The tears came freely now, wetting the fabric on her knees. She then became vaguely aware of a warm body touching her right side.

"It's not impossible, you know," Darius' voice was gentle, soothing, unlike any tone she had heard him speak with. She preferred his angered voice. His serene tone had more weight and depth, and hung heavy in her consciousness.

"W-what?" her sobs began to lessen in intensity.

"For us to fix this problem you have gotten yourself into."

Eleanor paused for a moment, contemplating the simple, yet extremely complex announcement he had just said. "You can't do that," she whispered, avoiding his eyes. She felt even guiltier for dragging him down in to her mess.

"And why is that?" he prodded. _Did he not understand her perfectly obvious reasoning?_

"We hate each other, and I have done nothing these past few years to warrant any help like this. For the way I have behaved towards you, you should have dragged me off and locked me up, either in a jail or an insane asylum. That would have been better, in fact. I'm not quite sure how to respond to benevolent attentions."

"A simple acceptance would suffice."

"You know me well enough to know that is not in my nature, even after the realization of my abominable actions," Eleanor said with a slight laugh.

"Yes, I suppose I can attest to your resolute nature from firsthand experience," Darius agreed, remembering all their aggressive arguments with one another. "But if we turn that behavior around, then you can use it to control and diminish the gossip and harm that have centered on the Riddell name. Well, at least lessen it before it troubles your brother."

"Oh, dear Andrew, why did he have to be cursed with such a sister?"

"He loves you more than anything, don't you forget that. When he was away in the northern country, there were too many demands for his time, preventing him from traveling to see you, but you were his favorite conversation topic. He is so proud of you."

"Not for long," regret for her actions coated her words. "I'll be surprised if he ever talks to me again."

"Your brother is quicker to forgive then most, I'm sure you won't have much trouble finding his favor again."He stood up at the end of his sentence, "And if you haven't already forgotten, there is a ball taking place not twenty feet from where we have been sitting. The other guests will start to notice." He held out his hand for her.

She didn't take it. Eleanor though she saw the briefest flicker of rejection cross his face.

"I think I have had enough of society for a while." Eleanor straightened her coat at the waist and brushed off her pants, more as a nervous gesture rather than to tidy her appearance.

"Shall I accompany you back to your apartments?"

"No," another strange emotion passed over his face; she was really making a mess of her conversation tonight, "Oh! What I meant to say was I was invited to stay at the Bingley's tonight. His townhouse is merely a minutes away." She was attempting to get of this awkward situation she had found herself in; attempting but definitely not succeeding.

"Is there at least someone from his party that could go with you? Honestly Eleanor, you look in no state to be walking around London alone at night. Men's appearance or no." He finished his sentence more like a command, and Eleanor would have flown into a mild rage if she had not stopped to contemplate on the middle of his sentence. _He said my name. He has never said my name before. _She didn't know if she liked the little bubble of emotion that rose up inside her, or if –

Her thinking was cut short when she realized he was looking expectantly at her, as if he had just asked her a question and was awaiting an answer. Getting very embarrassed, and consequently very red, she racked her brain for an answer to a question she didn't know.

"Darcy," she blurted out a little louder then she planned for. Just as if a small gust of wind picked up the short name and carried it into the ballroom, the man in question stepped onto the terrace. His dark eyes fell upon the two. If Mr. Darcy was curious as to why his new acquaintance was standing, red faced, next to the young Lord Darius Alistair, he gave no indication. He did grasp the plea of assistance that she, yes she, was looking at him with. He had to resolve this problem quickly.

"Lord Alistair," Darcy gave the other man a short bow, "Lord Riddell, I was planning to cut my evening short. Observing that you were not engaged on the dance floor, would you care to follow my lead and return to Bingley's house?"

_Bless you, Mr. Darcy._ "Yes, I would care to. Goodbye Lord Darius."She quickly left the terrace, more for her sake of escaping the awkward atmosphere then to incite rudeness, with Darcy following close behind.

Darius was left in the cold night air to reflect on his jumbled thoughts and plan for the days ahead.

"Is it a habit of yours to have heated debates on isolated terraces with wealthy lords?" Mr. Darcy broke the silence that had lasted from their exit from the party, the short carriage ride home, and just barely through the entrance hall of Mr. Bingley's townhouse.

"No, it is not. May I ask why you are so curious about that specific problem? No doubt you have heard the gossip of my other character flaws."

"I am surprised at the rumors about you that have been circulating recently, but I am more concerned with your emotional state, Lady Eleanor."

Eleanor's world froze for a brief moment. How had Mr. Darcy figured her true identity? Panic swept through her mind; then was replaced by perfect logic and calm.

"You have known all along, haven't you?" Eleanor asked with a laugh, feeling completely ridiculous.

"Indeed. You may have fooled the ignorant and gullible people of London, but I on the other hand, am much more skeptical of people. You never truly fit the image you were striving for. And," he reached inside of his jacket pocket and pulled out a thin letter, "I had a letter from my sister not two days before meeting you. She illustrated the whole situation to me, asking for my assistance. Your wild flight from Rosings Park created quite a still in the population of _that_ house, and Georgiana was worried for your safety, both physical and mental. After tonight, I'm not sure if you have a firm grasp on either of them."

"I have to admit, this whole 'adventure' of mine was a little-" Darcy's eye brow raised, "Okay, very, crazy of me to have undertaken but I didn't see another option. I needed to leave, to prove a point to the world. I feel like I did make that point, albeit not in the most logical way, but at least I did something." The last part of her argument came out as a whisper. Eleanor did not know what to do anymore. She was at the end of her will power, the end of her tirade against the Duchess. With all the determination to live and defy the rules gone, she slumped onto the stair, looking pleadingly at Darcy. "What should I do?"

Darcy sighed, seeing much of his sisters naivety in the young woman, but also something more; an acknowledgment of a horrible action, with no idea in how to repair it. He walked over to where she sat and held out his hand for her. She took it and rose to her feet.

He wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder, like her brother used to do when they were little. The gesture made her feel protected but it was still supportive, ready to face the challenges ahead. "I won't leave you until you can face this challenge by yourself."

It seemed that Darcy wasn't the distant, arrogant man Eleanor first thought he was. In fact, he was beginning to resemble the one-step less then god his sister had painted him as.


End file.
